A Hangover, A Pervert, and A Mariachi Costume
by Joltz
Summary: The title is self-explanitory. ::scary music plays:: Just when you thought I was sane... *Not ment to offend anyone! Except Fred. Yeah, you know who you are...*


Rachel woke up one sunny morning with a splitting headache.   
  
"Jeez." She groaned, rolling over to hide from the light.  
  
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Now, on an outside note, those of us who've had these headaches know that they're only caused by one thing.  
  
A humongus hangover.  
  
You can stop staring at the author, she doesn't speak from experience.  
  
Also, those of us who've had a hangover know that there's only one thing that can make this situation worse.   
  
Finding another person sleeping next to you.  
  
Once again, stop looking at the author and direct your attention to the fic.  
  
Now, as I was saying, it's a very bad thing to find someone next to you during this particular headache. And couldn't you just guess what happened to Rachel next?  
  
Since most of you are reasonably smart, I'll assume that you guessed correctly.  
  
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Rachel stared at the figure next to her and let out a slew of curse words that would scare the Italian Mafia.   
  
Tobias, fast asleep and in human form, groaned lightly in his sleep.  
  
Rachel prepared to kick him, but then stopped. She looked at the light smile on his human lips and gingerly touched his cheek. She loved seeing him happy. So she decided not to kick him.  
  
She slapped him instead.  
  
"Owww..." He murmured, then he realized where he was.   
  
"Ummm...good morning?" He said.  
  
Rachel slapped him again.  
  
Tobias demorphed to bird very quickly and then morphed again, for reasons unknown to him, but the narrator and author knew it was purely to feed the starving plot.  
  
"Do you know what we did last night?" She demanded.  
  
"How would I know? I was completely out of it. But from the really bad headache and the pile of clothes on the floor, I'd say we drank ourselves stupid and slept together." Tobias supplied.  
  
Rachel scowled. "This is really bad."  
  
"No duh." Tobais said before he could stop himself.  
  
Rachel decided that she could kick him now.  
  
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These two are rather busy berating and beating each other stupid, and I can understand why. But if they were paying more attention, they may have noticed the rustling tree branches outside Rachel's window. And if they saw that, they may have gone to the window to see what it was. And if they looked out that window, they may have seen the silhouette of a figure, mostly concealed by the leaves.  
  
"Hey, my cable's out." Marco explained when he realized that the narrator and the author were staring at him. He then decided to go back to looking through his binoculars at the hungover pair, making a face at the narrator and the author before pulling the leaves around him like a curtain.   
  
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Tobias took note that Rachel was very angry.  
  
It was quite visible.  
  
The way her eyebrows were arched.  
  
The way her eyes seemed to carry a enraged glint.  
  
The way she was frothing at the mouth.  
  
It was about that time when Tobias also took note that staring at Rachel was not making her any less angry.  
  
He tried to duck in time, but once again her fist connected with his face.  
  
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The author and the narrator were sitting in the peaceful void of nothingness. Which is actually a farm in mid-Iowa.   
  
"Why exactly are you writing this?" The narrator asked Joltz.  
  
She just shrugged.  
  
"You know you're gonna get flamed." He said.  
  
"Yep." She replied.  
  
"Then why do it?" He asked.  
  
Joltz just looked at him for a minute before answering, "'Cause no one else has."   
  
"So?"   
  
Once again, Joltz just shrugged.   
  
Then they both realized they had left Rachel beating the crap out of Tobias, and they scrambled back into the storyline to stop the pair before Tobias looked like ground hamburger.   
  
As they were leaving, the narrator wrinkled his nose. "Is it just me, or does this place smell like cows?"  
  
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Very unfortunately, the two coordinators of this story were a little too late to save Tobias' originally cute face, and he was busy demorphing faster than a bat outta hell.   
  
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"Who came up with that saying anyway? A bat outta hell. That really doesn't make sense." The narrator pondered.   
  
"Just shut up and narrate." Joltz sighed.  
  
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"Tobias, you're gonna have to demorph." Rachel said.  
  
[Why?] He asked defiantly. He in no way wanted to be around her as a human when she was this pissed off.  
  
Rachel pointed to the pile of spandex in the corner.  
  
[Oh, sh*t.]   
  
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Since the narrator and the author were getting bored with Rachel and Tobias, they decided to flash back to Mr. Pervert, who was hopefully more entertaining.  
  
Marco had just been joined by a guy named Fred and a monkey named Mr. Bubbles. He was getting rather bored and wasn't particularly interested in seeing Tobias naked, so he was occupying himself by staring at the newest edition of 'Playboy'.   
  
"Hey!" He cried, noticing that the attention was focused on him again, "Get your own!" Hugging his magazine to his chest, he once again pulled the curtain of leaves around him.  
  
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"Whadday say that we end this thing now?" The narrator asked Joltz as he played with a piece of string.  
  
"Sounds good. I think we're running out of plot, anyways." Joltz replied, yawning with boredom.  
  
The narrator sat up, startled. "Plot?"  
  
"Shut up and put on the finishing touches, dweeb." Joltz growled.  
  
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And so, they solved their differences and went their separate ways. And now you know what the title stands for.   
  
The hangover...  
  
:::Shows Rachel's bathroom door shut, and you can hear the shower running:::  
  
Okay, that wasn't the best example. So sue me.   
  
The pervert...  
  
:::Shows Marco in the tree, drooling over his porn:::  
  
The...hey! Wasn't there supposed to be a mariachi costume in this story? Look, it even says so in the title!  
  
Joltz furrowed her brow. "Good point."   
  
The mariachi costume...  
  
::Shows Joltz trying to stuff Tobias into a hawk sized mariachi costume, with conga line music playing in the background::  
  
[Sh*t! Stay away from me! Nooo!]  
  
"Tequila!"  
  
And, being as I'm the narrator and it's my job to bring this fanfic to a perfect conclusion, let me just say...  
  
I need a new job.   



End file.
